American Shithole #7 — Besties
Today however, I feel compelled to shut the front door on all the chaos of our political hell-scape, and instead write a short article about friends. Best friends, really. Not the particulars about my best friend — we shall call him, Peter — but the bonus points in life you generally receive if you’ve been lucky enough to have developed a close friendship along your way.
He was tired of carrying her weight. Her financial choices and responsibilities. Her alcoholism. And he knew she was tired of his drug abuse and laziness and porn addiction. And Train played. And the guy kept talking. “Thing is, man… if it weren’t for divorce, I’d have student loans.”